


Newspaper Clippings

by ALilyPea (alilypea)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilypea/pseuds/ALilyPea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah wanted a normal life. But he isn't sure he'll ever be able to have one, given his proclivities for obsession and ritual. He finally has his own apartment, his own life but everything is turned on its head when an angel walks into his life, needing a place to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I began writing back in 2010, but ended up losing track of. It's been on my mind as of late, so this is my rewrite of it. The original can be found in its unfinished entirety [here](http://awritinglilypea.livejournal.com/70832.html). My plan is to finish it within the month. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Trigger warning: Talk of mental illness and obsessive compulsive behaviour patterns**
> 
>  
> 
>  Also, a note on the OCD behaviours. I understand that not every person, with this disorder is the same, these are just based on individual experiences and not representative of the community as a whole.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah is moving into his new apartment and thinks he can even handle a roommate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Some talk of OCD behaviours

His life, had, at one point been completely, boringly normal. Elijah Wood had possessed that ability, the ability for normalcy. He’d gone to school, he’d played baseball, made fun of his younger sister and he’d been a good son.

It wasn't something he liked to think about. It seemed like so long ago, and from what his therapist told him it wouldn't reoccur anytime soon.

At the same time he didn’t know what he would do with himself if it didn’t.

Everything had started small, the rituals that is. They always did or at least that's what he'd found when researching his disorder.

And that was a word that amused him. Disorder, for someone who needed; who craved an orderly life in a world amidst chaos.

Elijah had been fourteen. His parents had divorced four years prior when his mother remarried on April 4th. 

It might be silly to some, but the number four had seemed to haunt him ever since.

The first rituals, when they began, had involved cleanliness. After his mother had married Roy they'd moved into his house and his room had never seemed clean enough. It wasn’t enough of a haven from the messy outside world. The house smelled like rotten wood. He'd always been worried it would come down around them if they weren't careful. It didn’t have the almost sterile look of a new home, or an updated home.

He’d loathed every second of it. He’d never felt clean in that house, with dirt brown carpet in his room that made his skin crawl. He'd run to the sink to wash, and scrub his hands until they turned red from heat, and white from cold. 

The skin had cracked, and bled, and after a time he’d given up trying to hide it. It had seemed pointless, as he felt like his world, the world he felt safe in was slipping away.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

And now? He was 23 years old, living on his own for the first time. His life fairly resembled shit, as his best friend liked to remind him. 

His mother worried and she hadn't wanted him to move on with life. She hadn't wanted him to move out even though he knew his rituals and compulsions drove her crazy. He embarrassed her, being mentally ill and marring her perfect 

It all came to this moment as he stood in the middle of his new apartment looking around as he planned the layout. He wanted to be comfortable. 

“Excuse me?” There was a soft voice from the open door and he whirled around, surprised to find a man standing there. It was rare though, for someone to catch him off guard and his heart beat just that little bit faster.

"I heard there was a room for rent, I hope I'm in the right place," the man continued. He lifted the newspaper and squinted at the small print. 

Breathless Elijah managed to jerk his head in a nod. This was not the type of person he’d imagined sharing a place with.

It was quite possible he was not a man at all, he was a fucking angel. His skin was honey kissed. His hair was a bed of soft mussed curls and he possessed deep brown eyes. 

“Are you Elijah Wood?” And his angel had an accent.

“Yes, yes I am,” Elijah managed to choke out.  Dragging his fingers through his hair he then shoved his hand in his pocket. “I uh, I can show you the room I’m renting out,” he waved a hand.  He walked up the small staircase to the loft bedroom, "I know it’s uh, not exactly private but…”

The other man looked around, eyes huge as he did so before he turned to Elijah expression one of curiosity. “You don’t sleep here?” His voice was filled with amazement.

Elijah's heard it before, but he hated wide open spaces. He ignored the question, moving on. “If you want to live here I’ll need a copy of your criminal record, for precautions sake.”

Those brown eyes widened again, his angel seemed faintly amused. “Very well then, if it takes a couple days will I lose the space?” He seemed more worried about that than anything else. Elijah felt his affection grow slightly.

Elijah shook his head quickly, managing a small smile. “No, I’ll hold it. It’s the last day the ad was supposed to run anyway. But let me know if you’re certain about the space.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to leave you hanging,” The angel beamed at him and offered his hand. “That was rude of me, my name is Orlando, Orlando Bloom.”

Staring down at the offered hand Elijah took a step back, not stopping until he bumped into the dresser, fingers curled around one of the drawer knobs.

“I don’t touch people,” he said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to offer further explanation. He didn’t think he could handle it, not today at least.

Orlando’s brow furrowed in confusion and he frowned momentarily before a smile flitted across his face, obviously having decided that he’d done nothing wrong.

“That must make dating awfully hard mate,” he commented lightly, glancing into Elijah’s eyes.

“Uhm yeah, I don’t do that either,” Elijah said softly, looking down shyly. He sucked in a deep breath. “So I will hear from you soon?”

Orlando frowned again, his expression one of concern when Elijah glanced back up at him.

“Yes, you will,” he responded, shooting his new roommate a smile before he headed for the door, stepping over boxes as he left.

Elijah made his way over to the bed, sinking down onto the frame the springs bounced him slightly. He bowed his head and covered his face, rubbing his hands over it he sighed.

How was he going to try and have a normal life when he found himself falling for the first angelic face that walked in the door? Especially when that man certainly had no idea of what he would have to live with.

Why couldn’t his life just be…be…Not fucked up for once.

Letting out a bitter bark of laughter Elijah resisted the urge to weep as he pressed his palms into his eyes. It’s not like Orlando would be one to stick around anyway, few people did when they realized how fucking crazy he was. Why would they?

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah doesn't know how to deal with his mother at times, but luckily Orlando seems to have just the touch needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: OCD behaviours are discussed

Cleanliness.

He raised his hand to his lips, nibbling lightly on his nails. He turned in a perfect circle in his new bedroom, the anxiety of being there almost enough to take him under. It wasn’t clean enough. And his mother was refusing to leave so that he would get the chance to clean it. He tried not to imagine that she was doing this out of pure spite. Just because she could.

His anger rose, and ebbed and he shoved it away.

She had after all seen his compulsions, his obsessions take frenzied form before but he hated performing them with her around. She would get this look on her face. It was one of helplessness and despair before guilt and anger would war in her eyes and cause him to feel like there was a rock in his stomach. Weighing him down and growing bigger by the second.

God, he just wanted her out of there, why couldn’t she leave? He needed her to leave.  **As soon as possible.**

“Elijah are you even listening to me?” His mother asked, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow as she studied him.

Great, and now she was pissed off.

This was turning out to be such a great day. He could hardly believe how great.

“Sorry mom, what were you saying?” He responded, “I zoned out for a second.” He lowered his hand, a wince taking him when he realized his nails had been bitten down too far and pain surged through them before he managed to shove his hands in his back pockets. He rocked on his heels just a little bit, looking at anything but her.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have a roommate honey,” Debra said for what felt like the millionth time, though it was only the thirty-ninth time. Elijah had counted after all.

It was all that was going to keep him from screaming.

Sometimes he wished he could get rid of her at times, just bar her from parts of his life and let her in when he was up to dealing with her. She was hard to be around, too much to deal with, and this was one of those moments. As much as he wanted to be let go, to have a normal life she didn’t seem to want to let him go.

“I told you before, Orlando seemed like a really nice guy he only got in trouble with the law once and it was a stupid, childish college prank for some frat,” Elijah replied, hating how sharp his voice came out as he wasn’t really one to take his anger out on others but his mother seemed to bring out the worst in him at times.

At least he hoped the reason Orlando had gotten in trouble was just a harmless college prank, or that’s what he’d told himself it had been, at least 56 times exactly.

He wasn’t sure what he would do if he had a roommate who liked to dance around the apartment naked, or something like that.

Orlando naked.

Which was unclean, or at least that was what he would try to convince himself. He drifted away momentarily then snapped back into focus glancing at his mother before he took another look around.

There was some sort of smudge on one of the bedroom walls, he didn’t know what it was and the thought of it expanding took him over for a moment.

The possibilities of what it could be slipped into his mind, making his skin crawl until he remembered something about having to repair fire damage.

A smudge of charcoal, perhaps. That was all it was.

Regardless he didn’t want it there.

Her fingers snapped, five times in a row as per usual. It was as annoying as it always was, and as it always did made her wonder if despite her insistence that his disorder was his father’s fault that she was the one who caused it.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Elijah,” her tone was harsh, biting. She thought he was being unruly and he hid a smile resisting the urge to shake his head. Sometimes the only solace he had in life was knowing that sometimes despite everything she would treat him as she did his siblings.

But he wasn’t willing to listen to her right now, not today, when he was supposed to be starting his new life. He’d signed the lease agreement, paid for it out of his own pocket and enrolled in part time courses at the community college.

It was the new routine that had been recommended to him, by his therapist no less, but despite her lack of degree in psychology his mother seemed to be under the impression that Lucas was an idiot.

He rolled his eyes skyward, turning away from her. “It’s done,” he told her simply, keeping his tone a little harsh and hoped she wouldn’t argue.

Debra huffed out a sigh, and for a moment Elijah thought she was going to stamp her foot like Hannah used to when she was a little girl and they wouldn’t let her watch television for more than a half hour.

“We need to find you a new therapist,” she informed her son, her cheeks slightly flushed. “He’s done nothing for you.”

Elijah sputtered momentarily, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “Are you kidding me?” he asked her, arching an eyebrow.

Debra looked like she was about to retort when there was a knock on the door and Elijah found himself thanking God or whoever else was up there for this moment of intervention between the two of them.

He hurried out of the bedroom, putting as much space between himself and his mother as he could for the time being and threw open the door, the feeling of brainlessness returning when he saw who was standing there.

Orlando.

“Hello mate,” Orlando greeted in what Elijah had come to see as his easygoing, friendly manner from their conversations. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” he said as he spotted Debra coming out of the bedroom.

“Oh, not at all,” Elijah gestured for him to come in, noticing the other man was toting an army style tote bag over one shoulder. He’d never felt so happy to see another person in his life.

Debra frowned deeply, “Do you not have any consideration for the person who is going to be your roommate young man?” she asked in a sharp tone of voice.

Orlando stopped, turning toward her he seemed to falter visibly and Elijah winced, closing the door. He resisted the urge to bash his head against it repeatedly.

“Excuse me?” the angel faced young man finally responded, his tone one of forced politeness.

Elijah turned, leaning against the door he glanced between his mother and his new room mate, biting his bottom lip.

“It’s no bother,” he told Orlando, shooting his mother a glare.

Debra let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head at how nice her son always was. “It is though, you have a routine Elijah.”

Elijah flushed red as Orlando looked at him, his expression one of curiosity.

“I’m sorry Elijah, I can leave and come back at the time we arranged if you are in the middle of something,” Orlando offered, his tone warmer when he spoke to the younger man.

Smiling weakly, Elijah shook his head, “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s fine. You wanted to bring some stuff over, I get it. No sense in bringing everything at once. I’ll even take that up for you.” He grabbed the bag Orlando had set down, dragging it carefully toward the stairs. He picked it up and teetered only for a moment under its weight before striding determinedly up them and setting it down next to the bed.

“You should have more respect,” he could faintly hear his mother beginning to lecture Orlando. “Just because things are different in London or wherever it is you’re from-”

Orlando cut her off, and Elijah had to stifle a small smile and laugh. “Canterbury,” his tone was polite.

He heard his mother sputter, “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m from Canterbury, it’s quite different from London, you’ll find,” Orlando told her, his tone almost cheerful.

Elijah covered his mouth, fighting the urge to let out a bout of hysterical laughter. Orlando was enjoying this, it was enough to make him want to cheer and clap. He was toying with Elijah’s mother.

“It doesn’t matter,” Debra responded sharply moments later. “Here we have respect for those who are disabled.”

Silence rang through the apartment and Elijah felt all good humour slip away from him, and resisted the urge to peek over the half wall to see the expression on the Englishman’s face. Great, just great, that was all he needed, was his new roommate finding out that he was a freak before he had actually even moved in.

Because his life wasn’t fucked up enough already, this would just make it that little bit better.

“Pardon?” Orlando responded moments later, incredulity filling his words. “Disabled?”

“Yes,” Debra snapped, as though she was talking to someone who was lower than herself. It was entirely possible that she did think he was, Elijah figured, his mother had changed since she’d gotten money. “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.”

Elijah cringed, and resisted the urge to cover his eyes with his hands, or march right out of the apartment as something inside of him shook.

Orlando’s next words shocked Elijah to his core. “I’m sorry ma’am, but where I’m from, that is not considered a disability, it is a disorder which is perfectly treatable given time and patience.”

Debra made a noise and Elijah did peek over the half-wall then, unable to help himself, smiling briefly when Orlando glanced up at him and nodded, but his mother didn’t notice. The look on his mother’s face was one he’d last seen on his pet goldfish Frodo, and it was an amusing one at that.

“Considering Elijah is living on his own, and I see no signs of hoarding millions of newspapers I would say he’s well off, he must have a very good therapist,” Orlando said in that cold polite tone he’d seem to affected when speaking to Debra since walking through the door.

There was something unspoken there, but Elijah could hear it quite clearly. “A very good therapist,” possibly followed by something along the lines of “though his mother’s not much” or some other combination of words. But Orlando was holding back.

Part of Elijah wished he wouldn’t, but then if he wasn’t going to say anything he couldn’t very well convince his roommate to, especially since they didn’t know each other all that well.

As he watched them, peeking out from his hiding place he sighed as his mother glared at Orlando then gathered her coat. He opened his mouth to say something, and it remained open as she stormed toward the door and slammed it so hard he was certain the frame cracked.

He was inclined to agree with the unspoken though. She wasn’t that good of a mother. She hadn’t been since he’d lost himself, and he didn’t know if she ever would be again.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlando is ready to move in, Elijah is second guessing himself, and when his best friend arrives he realizes he most likely will not get to cleaning his room any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Accidental self injury followed by care

Orlando glanced up at Elijah the minute the door was shut, squinting slightly as the light hanging overhead shone brightly into his eyes. “It’s nothing to feel shame about,” he said in a soft voice, although his tone was one of caution.

Elijah pulled back from the half wall, sitting down on the bed he tried to calm himself down by taking deep breaths even as he felt something inside of him begin to fracture.

He didn’t know what he was thinking. Was his mother right?

Moving out, in his mind, had been one of the best things he could do, but what about his chocolate eyed room mate? That was beginning to seem less and less like a good idea.

“You’re not going to toss me out, are you?” Orlando asked, standing at the top of the stairs but not entering the bedroom space yet, his hand resting on the railing.

Elijah looked up at him, seeing no judgment in Orlando’s eyes. He relaxed just a sliver but couldn’t help but think that perhaps that would change over time, “No, but do you want to leave?”

Orlando smiled, the expression flitting across his face and leaving Elijah cold when it left. “No,” he said simply.

Looking down at his hands, Elijah began picking at his nails, and the skin around them unable to look at his new roommate. “How much more stuff do you have?”

“A couple of boxes,” Orlando responded easily, taking the change of conversation and stepping further in. “Is it okay if I spend the night?” he questioned, his tone now one of concern.

Concern.

Elijah was hard pressed to remember a time when some person or other hadn’t been concerned about him, whether it was concern for him, or concern because they worried that they would set him back.

“It’s fine if you do, I’m not going to completely go off the handle and freak out on you,” he said in a bitter voice, blue eyes on the floor now.

Orlando’s room was perfectly clean. He’d already scrubbed it until his hands were sore, then dusted, vacuumed and inspected every nook and cranny. He found himself looking around, as though he was trying to see if he had missed a spot.

“Elijah,” Orlando’s voice was filled with warmth, “my room looks great, thank you for cleaning it for me.”

Elijah’s head jerked up so fast it actually hurt his neck and he found himself looking at the Brit with wide eyes.

“Y-You’re welcome,” he stammered, dragging his hand through his hair, only further messing it up. “I-I mean...” He couldn’t remember the last time someone had thanked him for doing something for them.

Orlando smiled at him, and Elijah felt a little of his anxiety slip away.

“It was something you felt compelled to do, am I right?” the Brit asked a moment later, rocking lightly on his heels.

Elijah watched him, and then nodded his head slowly. “Yes, it was. I didn’t...it’s rude to...” He could feel his cheeks heating up and averted his eyes again, standing up slowly.

Orlando studied him for a moment, as though he was considering whether he should continue. It was a look Elijah had seen before, from his best friend Dom and his therapist.

It was a calculating look, without being manipulative.

“What is rude?” Orlando asked finally, the words tumbling out of his mouth slowly and Elijah could feel the other young man’s discomfort.

It was obvious to him that Orlando was used to being open with people, honest, and it was hard for him to not be the same with Elijah.

Elijah could feel his resolve hardening, and he considered his new roommate a test to be taken. He needed to learn how to interact with other personality types, and Orlando Bloom’s personality was vastly different from his own.

“It’s rude to not have a room be clean when someone comes to stay,” he finally responded, chewing on his thumbnail, whimpering softly when he tore away too much and his thumb began to bleed.

Orlando strode forward before he could even process what was happening and took his hand, studying his thumb with a small frown on his face.

“You’ve hurt yourself,” he looked into Elijah’s eyes and Elijah felt his knees go slightly weak. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Elijah nodded jerkily, swallowing. “In the kitchen,” he answered.

Nodding as well, Orlando led him down the stairs and helped him onto a stool. Opening the kit, he spotted a small package of nitrile gloves. He washed his hands using the soap by the sink and dried his hands on a paper towel, throwing it out in the labelled bin before pulling on a pair.

“Okay?” Orlando asked Elijah, making sure to look him in the eye.

Elijah knew he must have looked like an idiot, the shock at how right Orlando had just done everything leaving him wordless. He managed a nod and held out his thumb, watching as Orlando pulled out the water based wet wipe with the number one on it and wiped the blood away with it, then pulled out the antiseptic wipe labelled two and wiped the small wound with that as well.

“How?” Elijah managed to ask, swallowing heavily as Orlando continued to do everything right.

Orlando smiled, and unlike before this smile was not brief and stayed, although it did fade a bit as he concentrated on opening the small bandage and put it over the wound.

“Psychology,” the taller young man answered finally, hesitancy to his voice.

Elijah was even more stunned then before. Orlando was insecure.

It made him smile, even though he knew it shouldn’t, because this angelic creature was insecure for much the same reasons Elijah was.

Elijah had been worried that Orlando would reject him, because of his disorder and Orlando was now worried that Elijah would in turn reject him because of his chosen profession.

“You must be very smart then,” he observed, hoping his tone of voice was complimentary.

Orlando’s cheeks flushed slightly and he shrugged his shoulders, carefully putting the first aid kit back together and then pushing it to Elijah to check it. He closed it when the smaller man nodded and put it back.

“I suppose,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck he glanced up.

Elijah froze, realizing Orlando was standing in between his legs. He found himself staring and tore himself away when there was a knock on the door.

“Oi, you bastard let me in,” Dom’s voice rang through the door.

“My best friend,” Elijah explained at Orlando’s confused look, as he slid off the stool, brushing past his roommate. It took everything in him not to stumble as a feeling of electricity jolted through him and he hurried to the door.

Dom was through the door as soon as it was open and hugged his best friend, lifting him off the ground.

“Welcome to your new home!” He glanced past Elijah at Orlando and pulled back, arching an eyebrow.

Elijah didn’t think he could turn any redder if he tried; in fact he was almost entirely sure he was going to spontaneously combust.

“Dominic Monaghan, this is Orlando Bloom,” Elijah muttered, gesturing between them.

“And who is he when he’s at home?” Dom asked, critically eyeing the taller man, looking him up and down.

“My roommate,” Elijah mumbled, ducking his head.

“Roommate, good on you,” Dom jostled his best friend and strode across the room, grabbing Orlando’s still glove covered hand. He pumped it a few times and clapped him on the shoulder. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Orlando said as he pulled his hand away, looking amused and as he glanced at Elijah there was an expression on his face the blue eyed man couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh, you’re from the Motherland,” Dom observed with a happy smile.

“Yes,” Orlando jerked his head in a nod. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I’m spending the night and I’ve got to fetch some of my stuff.” He buttoned his coat and hurried to the door, smiling at Elijah. “Won’t be late,” he didn’t pause until he was out the door.

“‘Lij,” Dom said in a confused voice.

“Yeah?” Elijah responded, distracted by Orlando’s quick departure.

“Why was he wearing gloves?”

Elijah sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

He was never going to get to clean his room.

  



	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlando goes to see some of his closest friends, and mentors, tries to work some things out and some of his past is revealed.

“I thought you were staying at your new place,” Sean Bean said to Orlando as he leaned against the doorjamb and stared, one eyebrow raised speculatively even as he moved out of the way. 

Orlando nodded his head, pacing back and forth once he was inside, not even realizing when Viggo Mortensen, his friend and mentor, had to lower his feet from the coffee table so that he could get by. 

“I have done something really bloody stupid,” Orlando said, throwing his hands in the air like he was filled with manic energy. 

Sean closed the apartment door, realizing he was most likely not going to get some alone time with Viggo anytime soon before he walked over to sit down on the couch, watching Orlando. “What did you do? Don’t tell me you’ve already slept with your new roommate,” he teased lightly. 

“Sean,” Viggo chastised in a soft voice, nudging his lover in order to keep him quiet. “What happened, Orlando?” he asked, displaying a near never ending patience. 

Orlando slumped down into the arm chair, covering his face with his hands. “I’ve done something so awful.” 

Viggo chuckled, rolling his eyes skyward. “Why don’t you tell us what it is and we’ll decide?”

“He is beautiful,” Orlando moaned, feeling quite pathetic, thinking of the fragility he had seen in Elijah’s eyes. 

Sean arched an eyebrow, then a smile slid across his face along with a mischievous look in his eyes, “Oh no Viggo, our boy has fallen for his roommate already and he’s not even spent the night.” 

Viggo glanced from his lover to Sean, sighing softly. It was like dealing with children, and yet most times Orlando was better behaved.

“You shouldn’t mock him, surely he hasn’t fallen already, he has only known the boy for a few days and one of the first things the kid did was ask Orlando for a background check,” he said practically to Sean.

Orlando groaned shaking his head. “First off, his name is not “boy” or “kid” it’s Elijah, second of all, he has OCD which I probably shouldn’t even be telling you and third...Sean is fucking right, annoyingly so, as always.” 

Sean laughed shortly, glancing at Viggo. He quieted after only a moment, feeling properly chastised. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” Viggo said in a level voice, observing Orlando closely, almost clinically so as he tried to figure out where the younger man was coming from. There were moments when his young, former charge seemed such, and this was one.

Orlando nodded his head, “I didn’t believe in angels before now, but I have seen one and he possesses such beauty.” 

Viggo smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he did so and a sense of pride filled him. “That is wonderful, Orlando.” 

Standing Orlando shook his head, doubt filling him, doubt he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He had been alone, for as long as he could remember and he just didn’t know if he could bother again even trying. It hurt too much to try. 

But Elijah...Elijah, with his bitten nails, warm hands and hesitant eyes, as blue as anything he’d ever seen.

He seemed worth it. 

“I don’t know,” Orlando admitted, rolling his shoulders in a helpless shrug as he bowed his head. “It’s too much.” 

He relaxed only a little when Viggo’s strong arms wrapped around him, the older man pressed against his side as a comforting hand rubbed his back.

“We’ve been over this,” Viggo murmured in his ear, a sigh breaking through and Orlando felt his heart clench in guilt. “It’s not too much, Stuart was not the end of your life. You have years to go, and you cannot spend them alone.” 

Orlando nodded, tears brimming in his eyes as he nodded. “Elijah has a best friend,” he found himself saying softly, smiling weakly when Viggo didn’t release him and just instead squeezed him tighter, seeming to realize he was coming to some revelation. “When they hugged, I felt...”

“Jealous,” Sean suggested, his voice less harsh and sympathy in his eyes as he supplied the answer Orlando had been grasping for. “It is normal, when you have feelings for someone, to feel jealous when another gets to touch them.” 

Viggo nodded, leading Orlando back over to the couch, He gestured for him to sit down, taking a seat next to him when he did so. “You have nothing to fear, a relationship can be an absolutely wonderful thing.”

Nodding for what felt like the millionth time Orlando allowed a small smile, “Relationship? He doesn’t even like to be touched by anyone,” he remembered the first conversation they’d had. “He let me though, but I was wearing these,” he pulled the gloves from his coat pocket. 

Viggo and Sean both looked at them in puzzlement, and Orlando couldn’t resist the urge to laugh softly. 

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he told the two older men, still looking amused at their twin expressions of confusion and bemusement. “He bites his nails, and ripped his thumbnail and began bleeding. He keeps these in the first aid kit, most likely to keep from blood contamination or something.” 

Viggo made a soft noise of understanding and nodded, “From what you tell me, for someone with that disorder, that shows a certain degree of trust which is excellent, it is the foundation of what could be a strong friendship, if not a relationship.” 

“I don’t know what reason I have given him to trust me, I’m a perfect stranger,” Orlando murmured, his brow furrowing and his mind working as quickly as possible to come to an answer for that little bit of information. 

“I trusted you when I first met you,” Viggo informed him, smiling when the young man looked at him in surprise. “I did.” 

Orlando shook his head, “You’re just being nice.”

Sean snorted lightly in amusement, he’d never known his outspoken and intelligent lover to do anything just to be nice. It was near impossible for Viggo at times to “just be nice” given the topic of conversation, especially if it was politics. 

“I’m not, you know better,” Viggo told him, his lips curling upward lightly. “I trusted you on instinct, you are a very open person and the fact that you care about people with your entire being is easy to see in your face, in your eyes.” 

Orlando felt his cheeks flush and shrugged his shoulders helplessly, feeling slightly ashamed as emotion caused tears to well again. 

“Thank you,” he wrapped Viggo in a hug and kissed his cheek. “If you hadn’t taken me in, I don’t know where I would be.”

It was a lie and none of them spoke to the truth. 

He would be dead. 

Orlando was forever indebted to the actors, both of them, for giving him his life back and setting him on the right track after the disaster which had been his relationship at the age of seventeen. 

Viggo patted his back and then released him, “Now, where are you staying tonight? Because you are more than welcome to take your room here despite what this grumpy bastard says.” 

Sean made a noise of protest which left Orlando chuckling softly. 

“No, it’s fine,” Orlando stood up, “I just need to grab some things and then you won’t see me until tomorrow when I come to grab the rest of my stuff.” He walked to his room and came back a few moments later, stopping when Sean stepped in front of him.

The fair haired man studied Orlando for a moment, grasping his upper arms firmly before he pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around the younger Brit. 

Orlando smiled, sliding his arms around Sean’s waist he stayed there for as long as he was held. “You’ve gone soft.” 

Sean growled playfully and patted his cheek, “You’re always welcome here boy.” 

Smiling wider, Orlando nodded, ducking his head lightly. “I know I am, just so long as one of you hasn’t been gone on a long shoot,” he teased cheekily, moving out of the way of Sean’s grasping hands and picking his bags up. 

“Don’t forget to call your mother,” Viggo told Orlando, smiling warmly at him. 

“Ta,” Orlando waved to them both before leaving the house he’d called a home for ten years. 

It was a new beginning, a fresh beginning. 

For the second time in his life Orlando Bloom was ready to find his place in the world.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah can't stop himself when he needs to stop and it's up to Orlando to pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Includes someone falling into their compulsions and as a result hurting themselves.

Dom left a half hour after Orlando, and Elijah found himself at a momentary loss. The silence of the apartment seeming almost oppressive, heavy now that the two liveliest people he’d ever met weren’t there. 

Panic unfurled within him, curling into his veins, into his very being, and he could feel his breathing sped up as he stood in the doorway to his room and saw how dirty it looked. 

It needed to be cleaned. 

“Resist Elijah, resist,” he murmured to himself, remembering his psychiatrist’s recommendation that he try to calm himself down instead of giving in immediately to the compulsion. 

There was still a smudge on the wall.

“Calm, deep breaths,” he murmured, closing his eyes so that he couldn’t see the smudge. It was childish, he knew, but he was now of the mentality that if he couldn’t see something it wasn’t real or didn’t exist. It just seemed like the right way to go. He counted to ten as he breathed in, then counted back from ten as he exhaled. 

Rocking on his heels, Elijah hurried for the kitchen, scrounging under the sink with an almost mad pace. He pulled out his cleaning supplies, all neatly arranged in a rectangular container with a handle and hurried back to his room almost at a run.

“It’s so dirty,” he muttered, his tone filled with complete disgust. He began scrubbing first at the smudge on the wall, running the scouring pad over it repeatedly until it was gone.

It wasn’t enough. The smudge was gone, but the floor still seemed to be dirty. He wondered when the last time someone had decided to get down on their hands and knees and really go at it was. Since Orlando wasn’t home, he decided to do so. 

Searching through his small container of tools, Elijah found the hardwood cleaner that had been recommended to him and got down onto his hands and knees, putting some on a brush; he started in the corner closest to the window. 

The grit in the edges along the wall took a while, and soon he was going at it with a toothbrush, feeling as though his skin was crawling as he did so.

It was so dirty. The room would never look clean if he didn’t get rid of it. 

He stood up, an hour or so later, he didn’t know. His back ached and his muscles burned and the floor looked better, but now it was dull. 

Elijah frowned, tears burning in his eyes as he looked down at it and let out a soft whimpering sound.

His room needed to be perfect. 

Wax! The answer came to him quickly and he smiled brightly as he remembered seeing some in the cupboard. Rushing to get it, he read the instructions and mixed it all carefully, grabbing the special brush which had been labeled with his label maker before returning to the room. 

Lowering himself back to his knees in the corner furthest from the door, Elijah began applying the wax, humming softly as he did so. It was going to look good, wonderful and he knew that it would make him feel more at peace in his new space. 

When he’d finished, a half hour later, Elijah stood outside his door looking down at the floor, which had a definite sheen to it, and it looked so clean.

His old bed frame suddenly looked dirty and he found himself frowning, wondering when the last time was he’d had it re-stained.

Elijah frowned, glancing at his dresser and then his end tables, rocking slightly on his heels again.

The wax would take a whole hour or to set. 

He needed them cleaned now, ready to be re-stained and wondered if there was anywhere he would be able to find stain at that time of night.

But if he stained it again, then he would have to wait. He didn’t want to have to wait to go to bed; he needed to be in bed by 11:30 exactly. 

There was a knock on the door and Elijah whirled around, hurrying over. He opened it, shocked for some reason to find Orlando standing there, two bags with him, one on each shoulder. 

“Elijah?” Orlando said his name as though it was a question. “Are you okay?” 

Concern? Orlando was concerned? Why?

“Yes, why?” Elijah responded, puzzled by the question.

Of course he was okay, by the end of tomorrow his room would look perfect.

The perfect peaceful place where he could go whenever anything began bothering him.

Just the thought made him smile.

“Your hands, Elijah,” Orlando spoke the words slowly, setting his bags down very carefully by the door and reaching out.

Elijah shook his head, back-peddling. “Don’t put your bags there please,” he blurted out the words. “The shoes go there, and if something is on the shoes it will get on your bags and it could get on the floor in your room.”

Orlando nodded, shooting him a small smile. He picked up his bags and toed off his shoes, lining them up along the wall just like Elijah’s were. “Is that okay?” he asked. “I will take my bags up to my room and then I want to look at your hands, alright?” 

“Yes, that’s okay,” Elijah looked down at his hands, turning them palm up. Pain suddenly flooded him.

The skin was worn away, paper thin in places from the last time he’d gone into a cleansing haze. Crimson wounds, which would become scabs, marred the soft white skin on his hands, irritated further by the wax which clung to portions of his fingers. 

“Oh no,” Elijah moaned in despair, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. 

He had been doing so well. It had been a month since he had hurt himself in this way.

Elijah barely noticed when Orlando came over to him, rested a hand gently on his back, and led him to the kitchen, lost in his own mind for the moment. 

“Can you get up on the stool?” Orlando asked him. “Or do you need my help?”

Elijah moved, trying to get up on his own, but he was used to gripping the countertop of the island to do so. 

“Elijah, why don’t we sit at the breakfast table to do this instead? It might be more comfortable,” Orlando suggested, one finger tilting Elijah’s chin up in order to get the younger man to look into his eyes.

Nodding, Elijah shuffled over to the breakfast table and managed to pull out the chair at the head of the table with his foot before sitting. He held his hands out, palms spread shoulder width apart, thoughts rushing through his head at a dizzying pace.

He was angry. 

Elijah was angry because he couldn’t resist it.

He felt helpless, because it felt so good to accomplish something that he hadn’t wanted to resist it in the first place.

Shame coursed through him because sometimes it was easier to live this way than try to fight his way out of it. 

Orlando would leave, he knew. All of his friends except for Dom had left him, one right after the other because as they put it, they “couldn’t live up to his standards” and who could?

He opened his eyes after a moment, surprised to find Orlando sitting diagonal from him, supplies already on the table for caring for him.

“Why?” Elijah’s voice came out as a croak. 

Gloved hands lowered Elijah’s into a soapy water filled bucket, and long fingers began gently removing the wax from his fingertips, careful to not hurt the lesions on his hands anymore than was necessary. 

“Why what?” Orlando’s voice was soft, a lock of curly hair tumbling onto his forehead as he bent over Elijah’s hands, studying them. 

Elijah cleared his throat, “Why are you being so nice? Is it because you want to study me?” 

Orlando’s lips curved into a smile and Elijah found himself slightly enchanted. “No, no. I finished my thesis already; it’s all about work experiences and my general electives now.” 

Nodding, Elijah believed him, there was simply something so open and honest about Orlando that he couldn’t help but do so. “Then why?” 

“When I was seventeen I hit rock bottom,” Orlando responded in an easy tone of voice, although a flicker of his eyes indicated it was something that still bothered them. “There was someone, well, two people who helped me put my life back together.”

“So you’re paying it forward?” Elijah asked, his brows crinkling in confusion as Orlando gently patted his hands dry and then went to refill the bowl with fresh, cool water. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief as his hands were lowered into the cool water, the sting fading away slightly as Orlando made sure there was no soap or wax left.

Orlando shook his head, glancing up at him as he changed his gloves. “No,” he answered simply. 

Elijah went quiet, trying to figure out what game Orlando was playing, or if he was even playing one. He seemed genuine. After all, who would share something so personal with someone they weren’t intent on trusting?

He watched as Orlando patted his hands dry again and then carefully cleaned them with antiseptic wipes, and then applying Polysporin before wrapping his hands carefully in a mixture of bandages and gauze pads.

“How long has it been since you had a bad haze?” Orlando asked him gently touching his wrist before he put everything back and tossed out the gloves. 

“Two months,” Elijah responded, shrugging his shoulders he looked at his hands and frowned. He wouldn’t be able to write like this, and was glad his classes didn’t start for another two weeks.

Orlando nodded his head, “Would you like to watch a movie?”

Elijah thought for a moment, and then nodded with a small smile. “I would.” 

“What would you like to watch then?” Orlando questioned, tilting his head to the side and studying him. 

“The Princess Bride,” Elijah answered, smiling shyly. 

Orlando grinned, “What side of the couch do you like to sit on?” 

“The left,” Elijah told him, already getting up and making his way over to the couch.

Orlando followed him, “Perfect. I prefer the right, now is it in the cabinet?” 

Elijah nodded, watching as Orlando opened the cabinet and pulled it out, putting it in the DVD player before he sat down next to him. 

“You’ll have to turn it on and all that,” Elijah held up his hands in explanation.

“Oh...sorry,” Orlando wrinkled his nose and picked up the remotes, figuring it out after a few moments. He pressed play and leaned back, getting comfortable.

Elijah smiled to himself, tilting his head back against the cushion. He felt relaxed. His furniture could wait. 

“And Elijah?” Orlando waited until he looked over at him. “I just want to be your friend.” 

Elijah bit his bottom lip, feeling happy. He glanced briefly at Orlando and then back to the screen. 

The angel wanted to be his friend.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah wakes up happy for the first time in a very long time, and can't believe it. He knows it's because of Orlando but is unsure of what to do.

As Elijah lay in bed with his eyes closed he tried to remember the last time he'd woken up happy and couldn't. It was a thought that scared him to the core, because he knew that the reason he was happy was because of Orlando. 

Orlando who had stayed up watching The Princess Bride with him until 11 o'clock. He'd noticed Elijah beginning to fidget and had told him he was ready for bed. He'd been so understanding about stopping the movie and continuing it later that Elijah had felt none of the normal guilt. 

Smiling to himself Elijah lazed around in his bed for the moment, knowing he had a half hour to do as he wished. 

Closing his eyes he listened to the noises of the apartment, head tilted back. He could hear Orlando moving around and got out of bed, a smile still on his face. He shoved his arms through his robe and tugged it on as he shuffled into the main part of the apartment.

Orlando was moving around the kitchen, with the phone pressed to his ear and turned, waving as he spotted him.  "I don't know Vig," his voice was warm and teasing. "I'm not sure when would be a good time to come and see the place." 

Elijah studied him, trying to figure out who he could be talking to. Orlando wasn't talking to him as one would a lover, or at least not as far as he knew. 

He wondered if this ‘Vig’ was the same man who had saved Orlando.

"Friday," he stated after clearing his throat and smiled when Orlando turned to him. "Dinner on Friday, invite as many people as you'd like who could fit in here." 

Orlando studied him for a moment, as though trying to figure out if he was sure, and a sunny smile broke out on his face. “Hey Vig, how would Sean and yourself like to come to an intimate dinner party on Friday?” he asked, winking at Elijah.

Elijah flushed before he could stop himself, and with a glance at the clock made his way to the bathroom to shower. He didn't care that the bandages on his hands became wet or that his wounds stung as he washed his hair and scrubbed himself clean. 

Orlando had winked at him.

He smiled to himself, getting as dry as possible and dressed before he emerged. 

Orlando was sitting on the couch and glanced up when he came in. There was a questioning look on his face, like he was scared to speak and waiting for what Elijah had to say. 

Or maybe it was Elijah who was scared to speak first, the blue eyed young man wasn’t quite sure. It was like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

“Could you redo my hands?” Elijah asked, holding them out. 

Orlando nodded wordlessly. “Do they need washing?” he questioned in reply, turning off the television. He stood up, putting the remote in the little corral in the center of the table.

Elijah shook his head, “Just the bandages removed, maybe a light soak.”

Orlando did that for him, finishing just in time for there to be a knock on the door. He glanced at Elijah as he secured the last bandage and arched an eyebrow, questioning. 

“Oh shit,” Elijah swore softly, garnering a laugh from his room mate. “Dom, I invited him for brunch. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, don’t mind at all,” Orlando told him with a smile. “I can get out of here if you’d like, give you two some privacy,” he murmured, cleaning everything up.

Elijah shook his head, “I was...I was hoping you’d stay.” His face felt warm and he damned himself mentally, knowing that he was turning red.

Orlando smiled. “Good, I’ll be cooking it anyway, you can’t do so like that,” he gestured to Elijah’s hands. “I’d be happy to know your friend.” He got up and put the first aid kit back where he’d found it. 

“You don’t have to,” Elijah told him, heading for the door. He opened it and accepted Dom’s hug, wrapping his arms around his best friend.

“Good morning,” Dom greeted. He glanced at Elijah’s bandaged hands, a worried look crossing his face as he did so. “Alright?” he asked him, not saying much else. 

Elijah smiled, nodding his head, “Orlando wrapped me up. We watched the Princess Bride.” He hoped his reply was enough that Dom wouldn’t fuss and smiled when his best friend removed his shoes.

“Well, angel face, how are you today?” He heard Dom ask Orlando and resisted the urge to bash his head off the door and wished he’d never told Dom that he thought his roommate looked like an angel. It was something he would most likely never live down.

Orlando laughed, and Elijah had to smile because the Brit seemed so at ease in his own skin. He couldn't help but be a bit envious, as he was still not that kind of person. 

“I’m making brunch, so you best be on your best behaviour,” Orlando threatened. “What would you like?”

Elijah made his way over, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, he rocked on his heels. “You don’t have to Orlando,” he protested again, unsurprised when it seemed to fall on deaf ears. He watched as the older man pulled out a frying pan, and other cooking utensils, washing his hands twice.

“Bacon, eggs and toast it is,” Orlando shot them both a smile. 

“Sounds good mate,” Dom replied, clambering up on one of the stools. “So what do you do for a living, Orlando?” 

Orlando hummed, glancing at Dom, then Elijah. “I work at a psychologist’s office and go to school full time.” 

Dom nodded his head. “That sounds fascinating,” he remarked. “Do you hope to be a psychologist someday?” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he did so. 

“Yes, I do, for children actually. Children who have experienced loss or have behavioural disorders," Orlando responded. his voice warming as he seemed to think of all the good he could do. 

Elijah found himself smiling again, not surprised that someone like Orlando would want to help children. It just seemed so obvious a choice for him.

"That must be how you knew how to deal with Lij's lovely mother," Dom responded with a cheeky grin. He maintained an expression of innocence when Elijah shot him a glare. 

Orlando looked between the two, his eyes widening as he tried to figure out how Elijah would react.

Smiling, Elijah shrugged his shoulders, “She has been known to act like a child who doesn’t get her way.” He leaned forward, “I like my eggs over-easy by the way,” he winked at Orlando. 

Dom laughed, grinning to himself. “Apparently you’re a god amongst men Orli. You’ve managed to do to Elijah’s mum what Elijah and myself have been trying to do for years.” 

“And what’s that?” Orlando asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Slay the dragon,” Elijah responded  before getting up. “I love her, I do, but she can be...”

“Bitchy? Annoying? Ridiculous?” Dom supplied, leaning over to say the words to Elijah, tilting to the side on the kitchen stool.

Elijah shook his head with a sigh, getting down a glass. He filled it with water. “Overbearing maybe,” he told them both.

Orlando smiled as he watched Elijah, then turned back to the frying pan as his roommate shuffled to his room and closed the door. the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing a moment later. 

“So Orlando,” Dom said slowly, studying him. “What are your intentions toward Elijah?” he questioned.

Orlando’s head jerked up and he looked surprise, “Pardon?” 

Dom smiled at him, “You look about as surprised as I felt when he told me that he would going to be living with someone. Elijah doesn’t play well with others, as I’m sure you’ve been able to figure out. Now for some reason he likes you, and I don’t blame him, you’re a likeable enough bloke.” 

Orlando’s eyes widened somewhat and he almost forgot to mind the eggs, glancing down at them. “Thank you?” he said in a questioning voice, trying to figure out how he was supposed to take this.

“Don’t thank me, because if you ever hurt him I will make sure they don’t find the body,” Dom said in a serious voice.

Nodding his head Orlando swallowed, trying to remember the last time he’d heard such a threat. Did Dominic really think he was the kind of person to hurt someone else?

“Orlando,” Dom’s voice was softer this time. He waited till the fellow Brit looked at him before smiling. “I hope you don’t get hurt either.” 

Orlando grinned at him, “I understand.” He couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same thing.

Elijah returned moments later and smiled when a plate was placed in front of him. He carefully put salt and pepper on his eggs after he broke the yolks and buttered his toast, dipping it in. He took a bite and swallowed. 

“Perfect,” he told Orlando before smiling. “What were you two talking about?” he questioned, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

“Orlando just invited me to the dinner party you’re hosting,” Dom responded, digging into his breakfast with vigor. 

Elijah was surprised, glancing at Orlando he saw a small smile on his lips. He  _ would _ feel more comfortable with Dom there, and the thought was nice. 

“Thank you,” he said to Orlando who seemed to wave off the sentiment before eating some of his own breakfast. “Now Dom, you do realize you’ll have to behave yourself,” he chastised him. “No eating like that for example.” 

Dom laughed, “What’s wrong with the way I eat?” 

“Nothing if you are a caveman, or someone who wasn’t born in the United Kingdom,” Orlando’s voice was teasing. 

“Hey!” Dom laughed again, switching the hands his knife and fork were in, cutting his food slowly, one pinky up. “Is this better?” 

Elijah chuckled softly, looking around the kitchen.

It might not be normal, but it seemed this would be his life from now on.

  
  
  



	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viggo and Sean come to dinner, Dom is stunned, Orlando feels like the world should open up and swallow him and Elijah's past comes into play.

Orlando didn’t know how Elijah dealt with Dominic at time. The the small man with the large personality had more energy than most five year old children on sugar highs. It was such a high contrast from Elijah’s personality. Elijah who was quiet, more soft spoken, but seemed to have a bit of a potty mouth. 

Currently Elijah was sitting on the couch, watching his best friend pace back and forth and wave his hands in the air animatedly. 

Unable to help himself, Orlando laughed as he opened the oven to peek in at the lasagna, happy to see the cheese on top was becoming both bubbly and crispy. Dom’s hand gestures and pacing reminded him a little too much of himself from two nights before. 

“What’s he going on about?” Orlando questioned. He handed Elijah a beer as he sank down onto the couch, smiling when he realized he could feel his roommate’s warmth against his bare arm. 

“Some musician he met last night,” Elijah murmured out the side of his mouth, watching Dom with an amused look on his face. 

“He’s not just some musician,” Dom told them both, a fierce expression on his face as he did so. “He’s Billy fuckin’ Boyd,” he waved his hands in the air like that made this man the most amazing person in the world.

Orlando bit the inside of his lip trying not to laugh. 

Elijah looked at Orlando, an amused look on his face. “Oh I’m sorry, he’s going on about Billy fuckin’ Boyd,” he said, deadpan.

Orlando laughed softly, “I’ve heard all about him. Apparently he’s good in the sack,” he joked, standing up when there was a knock on the door. He walked over and opened the door, only vaguely registering the twin gasps of surprise behind him before Viggo enveloped him in his arms.

“It’s good to see you again, kid,” Viggo murmured, squeezing him around the shoulders lightly before stepping into the apartment. 

Sean stepped in after him and gave Orlando a similar greeting, ruffling the college student’s hair with a soft smile. 

“Shoes against the wall, please,” Orlando told them both in a soft voice, smiling when they seemed to understand right away why they needed to do that and did so.

“So, which one of you is Elijah?” Sean asked, turning to Dom and Elijah, the latter only looking slightly less stunned than his best friend at their presence in his apartment. 

“Orlando, did you forget to tell your new friends something?” Viggo asked him, sounding a little amused, a mischievous glint in his eye as he did so. “That’s not very nice boy,” he winked. 

Orlando smiled somewhat, his amusement only lasting a moment when he saw how suddenly Elijah went from looking surprised and shocked to self conscious. Guilt rushed through him, unable to believe he had been so stupid. 

“I’m sorry Elijah,” he said softly, leading Viggo and Sean across the room. “This is Viggo and Sean, they are the men I told you about from when I was seventeen.” 

Elijah looked slightly more at ease, hearing that and smiled at them. “Hi,” he said in an almost shy voice. 

“Nice to meet you lad,” Sean gently greeted and Orlando felt more than a little touched that one of his mentors seemed to realize how important it was to be careful, and considerate when it came to the disordered young man.

“I’m Sean,” he said next, chuckling when Elijah’s smile widened. “But I guess you know that.” 

“Yes, sir,” Elijah responded softly, then turned red as Viggo laughed slightly and Sean clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Sorry,” he murmured, ducking his head lightly as though he was considering hiding.

Sean smiled, “You can call me Sean, or Bean,” he informed him before stepping aside to let Viggo say hello. 

Viggo nudged his lover affectionately and Orlando felt the same warmth he always felt around the two men, they were family for him and the way Sean was acting with Elijah, he knew the “papa wolf” as Viggo sometimes called him had found a new cub. 

“And you can call me Viggo,” he told Elijah then turned to Dom, “which must mean you are Dominic.” 

“Dom...is...who I am,” Elijah’s best friend stammered, and Orlando had to bite his bottom lip to resist the urge to laugh out loud because he’d never seen Dom so quiet in the short time that he’d known him and it was a pretty amazing sight. 

“They are just normal people,” Orlando reminded him gently, rolling his eyes skyward as he did so, because he’d forgotten about how people tended to react to his mentors and it always seemed ridiculous to him.

Yes, they were both talented actors, and Viggo was a triple threat, an actor, an artist, and, on the odd occasion, a musician, but they were his home, his family. 

“If you’ll all head to the table, I’ll bring out dinner soon,” Orlando informed them, feeling a little worried about how this would all work out, considering the different personalities gathered in the apartment. “Dom, wake up,” he tapped him lightly on the back of the head and smiled when he was rewarded with a soft laugh from Elijah. 

“It smells good, whatever it is,” Viggo commented to Elijah and Sean as he walked toward the table. “Dom, are you alright?” Orlando heard him ask the young thespian. 

“Yeah I am, sorry,” Dom responded, but even that wasn’t close to his normal tone of voice. 

Orlando walked out with two plates of lasagna and noticed how Elijah practically darted ahead of the group, in an effort to garner the seat closest to the wall on the left, and made a note to remember. He glanced over, feeling eyes on him and met Viggo’s concerned gaze. 

Sean followed him into the kitchen to help with the food, smiling as he washed his hands. “It’s a good place Orli,” he complimented, “Very nice. Good energy as Vig would say.” 

Nodding Orlando smiled slightly, “You can stop checking up on me now you know,” he chastised lightly, grabbing two more plates. “Grab your own plate old man, and the garlic bread while you’re at it,” he winked. 

“So Elijah, what is it that you do?” Viggo asked in a curious voice when they were all seated and beginning to eat. 

Orlando resisted the urge to groan, as he recognized the act for what it was. Viggo was playing the part of a concerned parent, grilling a new potential partner. 

He tried to glare at the older man, tried to warn him off such questioning, but knew it was useless. 

Elijah swallowed heavily, glancing at Viggo. “I’m in school, part time,” he said softly, a polite smile on his face as he did so.

“No job?” Sean asked, and Orlando was grateful that his tone seemed a little warmer than Elijah’s, that at the very least besides Dom, who still resembled a goldfish and himself, his roommate would have another ally at the table.

Sean wasn’t one to let Viggo go too far, and vice versa. 

“Not yet, it’s hard to find work,” Elijah said softly and Orlando winced in sympathy, shooting Viggo a book. 

He knew it had to be hard for Elijah to find work, to find any place which would keep up with his need to have a routine life and the compulsions which came along with his disorder. 

“He’s taking courses in creative writing, and journalism,” Orlando supplied for his roommate, shooting him a soft smile as he did so, trying to be encouraging because in the end, he knew that Elijah could win Viggo over.

How could those blue eyes not win anyone over? They were so filled with honesty, and a need to please. 

Viggo looked surprise, “That’s great,” he supplied, seeming to flounder a little bit. “You want to be a writer?” 

Orlando was desperately attempting not to introduce his forehead to the table, as much as he wanted to right then. 

Elijah shrugged his shoulders slightly, “I have some money, so I wouldn’t need to work if I didn’t want to, and I enjoy writing, so I guess I would like to do that even if it doesn’t pan out at a monetary level.” 

Dom looked surprised at the admission, seemingly more because he hadn’t expected Elijah to say it then that he didn’t know. 

Viggo arched an eyebrow, “Oh.” 

Orlando hid a grin, realizing Elijah had managed to do something very few people could do. Get Viggo to shut up when he was on a roll, and looking at Sean he realized Viggo’s lover was trying to hide a smile as well. 

“Money is such an awful thing to discuss at dinner,” Orlando said, shooting Viggo a glare, and then bowing his head and eating a forkful of lasagna. 

“I don’t mind,” Elijah responded, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like I got the money by killing someone or something, just a little acting role here or there when I was a kid.” 

Orlando almost dropped his fork, surprised and intrigued by this little bit of information, which, as he looked at the older man, he realized Viggo seemed to have latched onto but not in a protective way. 

“Acting?” Viggo enthused, taking a bite of his garlic bread he chewed it carefully. “What were you in? Anything I’d know?” 

Sean leaned forward as well, the two of them far too eager about their profession and clearly interested in how Elijah had factored into it.

“You must have been young, lad,” Sean commented, and smiled when Elijah did.

“Yeah I was,” Elijah shrugged his shoulders after finishing a bite of his food and smiled somewhat shyly this time. “I doubt you’ve seen any of the movies.” 

“Movies?” Orlando asked, turning to him he was completely surprised. He was thinking child modeling in commercials, or bit television parts but Elijah had been in movies.

The information was enough to leave him speechless and he noticed Dom was now only half paying attention as he consumed his food, which meant that this was definitely not new information.

His roommate probably had an IMDB page for heaven’s sake, and he hadn’t thought to mindlessly google him.

Although, he’d never really mindlessly googled anyone in his life, so why was he bound to start now?

“Now you have to tell us what movies,” Sean coaxed, shooting Elijah a slight wink.

Elijah blushed, “I was in Back to the Future II, Internal Affairs, both of those are blink and you miss it roles. Avalon, Paradise, The Witness, again blink if you miss on that last one as well as Radio Flyer and uhm...” 

“Bloody hell,” Sean said, almost as though something was dawning on him. “You’re the kid from Day-O and Forever Young,” he remarked. “My kids loved those movies.” 

Elijah shrugged again, lowering his eyes to the table. “It’s no big deal.” 

Orlando swallowed, “Right, no big deal,” he agreed, ready to kick himself when he saw the hurt look flit across Elijah’s face. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly amended, his cheeks colouring when he saw the other men at the table seemed truly amused at his blunder.

“What did you mean then?” Elijah asked teasingly, looking at him.

Oh good lord.

Elijah was...flirting with him?

Did Elijah realize he was flirting with him?

“I mean, it’s not something that should be made a big deal of, or...I mean...you’re a good actor.” 

Orlando wanted the ground to swallow him up. That would solve this sudden verbal problem that he was having. 

“You’re a good actor, just like them, but you are also a normal guy and you need to be treated as such, instead of a celebrity or something.” 

He could see Elijah’s hurt practically melt away at being called normal and smiled somewhat, ignoring Viggo’s concern again at watching him scramble to make his roommate happy. 

Orlando leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. 

He’d just realized something, something a little dangerous. 

He was willing to do almost anything to make the younger man happy, and that was dangerous for both of them

Viggo had reason for concern. 

“So, other than being a retired movie star, what do you like to do for fun?” Sean asked, clearly trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness of the conversation. 

“Oh, he reads,” Dom offered the information readily, seeming to have regained his ability of speech, while Orlando found himself floundering for his own. “He reads a lot.” 

“I know a bookstore you will have to check out then, Elijah, it’s owned by a fellow called Sean and it’s called ‘The Undying Lands,'” Sean informed the blue eyed man with a soft smile.

“You own a bookstore?” Elijah questioned, confusion clouding his eyes momentarily. 

“No no, his last name is Astin. It’s a very nice place, I think you’d find it quite comfortable,” Sean explained fully.

Elijah smiled at the prospect and Orlando’s heart ached when he saw his roommate’s eyes light up, realizing he was completely lost. He didn’t like being lost, but with Elijah it seemed to be pretty fun. 

“The Undying Lands? Like Lord of the Rings?” Elijah picked up the reference suddenly. “I adore those books.” 

The conversation continued easily throughout dinner, and Orlando found himself more at ease as it went on and light banter ensued over who would do the dishes.

“I can do them,” Elijah offered, a slight eagerness in his eyes. 

Orlando laughed softly, not intending to hurt his feelings. “I would prefer to do them, I did, after all, make the mess.” He’d managed to keep Elijah out of the kitchen pretty well while fixing the food and had fully intended on cleaning up after himself.

“Enjoy yourself, keep discussing books with Sean here,” he squeezed the older man’s shoulder as he passed by.   
It was worth it to have to do dishes as he saw how easily Elijah settled back into his chair, sipping his drink.

“I’ll help you,” Viggo told Orlando, following him into the kitchen. He began rinsing the dishes as Orlando passed them to him before they were loaded into the dishwasher.

“What is it, Vig?” Orlando asked, sighing softly. He knew he was in for some kind of lecture right then, he could tell it just from the tense line of the older man’s shoulders. 

Viggo smiled at him, shaking his head slightly. “I like him,” he said softly. 

Orlando nodded in acknowledgement, loading the dishes as he had seen Elijah do before knowing that his roommate was most likely bound to check later, provided Orlando didn’t get around to putting them away first.

“But?” he urged on.

Viggo sighed, turning to look at him, his hands still wet as he placed them on Orlando’s shoulders. “I worry what it will take for you to be in a relationship with someone like him,” he admitted.

“He’s not disabled Viggo, he has the power to overcome his disorder. I can see it in him, he lets me do the dishes for God’s sake,” Orlando responded, frowning. 

“I know he does, and that is really sweet, but what if he does not have the will to overcome, or does not feel as though it's in his best interest,” Viggo said in a soft voice, trying to make him see reason.

Orlando shook his head, “He wants to, you just don’t know him well enough,” he protested. “He will do it, and I will stand by him.” 

Viggo smiled suddenly and drew him close, “That’s all I wanted to know.” 

Melting into the hug, Orlando sighed in relief, realizing his mentor was only questioning him to see if he was ready to handle a relationship, to see if he was ready to move beyond the scars Stuart had left him.

Orlando wasn’t ready, not quite yet but with Elijah’s help, which he didn’t even realize he was giving, he could do it.  
He believed in that as much as he believed that Elijah would one day be able to have a life where he wouldn’t have to worry about bandages and the order of his books on a shelf. 

Scars after all did fade with time. 

Orlando would simply have to remember that his past mistakes were not to be repeated, and he knew it was a lesson he was not likely to forget. 

“You’re alright, Orlando,” Viggo’s hoarse voice murmured into his ear and warmth rushed over him. 

Laughter echoed through the apartment and Orlando had the strength to pull away from the hug and return to the dishes he had been working on.

“No more bloody interrogations alright, that was really mean what you did, you know,” Orlando chastised Viggo as they returned to taking care of the dishes. 

Viggo nodded, “I know, and I can’t believe I did it.” 

“Why did you do it?” Orlando asked him, trying to figure out what Viggo’s possible motives could be. 

“You looked so happy,” Viggo responded, his voice a little bit gruff as he did so. “I just wanted to make sure that he was a right match.” 

Orlando laughed and nudged him gently, almost knocking the older man over as he wasn’t expecting it. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were beginning to pick up some of Sean’s papa wolf instincts or something. I can’t believe you asked him what he did, I kept waiting for credit checks and social security numbers to follow,” he teased.

“Papa wolf,” Viggo grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he handed Orlando the last dish and watched as he put it in the dishwasher. “Did I do a good job of it?” 

Orlando laughed again, shaking his head, “I’m glad you only have a son, Viggo, because Elijah managed to shut you up pretty quickly.”

Viggo smiled crookedly. “You were proud, huh?”

Orlando nodded as they walked back into the main room of the apartment, “Yep I was.”


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah ventures into the Undying Lands and meets a new friend, and comes to a certain revelation.

 

Elijah pushed open the door to the bookstore Bean had recommended to him. There was a feeling of serenity almost immediately. It was calming and he wasn't sure why. If it was due to the jazz playing or that every piece of furniture was made of warm varnished wood. It was beautiful.

He could spot some used books and smiled as he touched their spines, almost not processing his own humming. It smelled good, paper, and coffee mingling together. He could practically hear Dom's voice mocking him. The books smelled of history and whispered in his ear about different worlds, races and visions. 

"Hello there, welcome to my store," a cheerful voice greeted him. He whirled around, and would've lost his balance if not for the firm grip of  a hand on his elbow. "I didn't mean to startle you," the man told him.

Elijah blushed, and wondered if all Orlando's friends were so nice and good looking.

"You must be Sean Astin," he smiled briefly when Sean A looked startled but smiled back. "I'm Elijah Wood, Sean Bean told me about your store." 

Sean made a noise of understanding. “Well, then, it’s nice to have a new customer,” he commented, touching Elijah’s shoulder gently. 

Elijah nodded his head. “This store is very nice,” he commented, taking a look around again. “And a cafe too? I think I’ll enjoy spending time here,” the words emerged in a shy tone, his cheeks still red.

He didn’t know how long it would be before he would actually feel comfortable talking to new people, but hoped it was soon.

He was sick of being the guy who blushed whenever he was given the slightest sliver of attention from someone.

The idea of shaking someone’s hand, when he hadn’t known if they were washed regularly or not, was something which had nauseated him for quite some time and was something he desperately wanted to get over.

It didn’t make him feel guilty to not want to shake someone’s hand, but it made him feel awkward when he got a look of disappointment from whoever he refused.

“Would you like anything from the cafe? On the house,” Sean told him with a slight smile, urging him toward the small area set up with tables, plush chairs and a small counter area.

“Orange pekoe tea if you have some,” Elijah responded, trying to figure out how he was supposed to interact with this man, who was being so nice to him simply on the word of a friend.

He didn’t even know if Sean Bean thought too well of him yet, although the older man had been friendly enough, something which still amazed and astounded him.

“Yes we do,” Sean washed his hands, Elijah noticed with pleasure, before he began making Elijah’s tea. Pouring it into a cup, he put the lid on and slid it across the counter. “So, what is it you’re looking for today?” he questioned.

Elijah shrugged his shoulders, “I have a small list of books from the journalism and creative writing classes I’m taking in two weeks, and then I was...I was wondering if you have any books on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,” he could feel the heat in his cheeks rising and wondered if he had reached tomato colour.

Sean looked sympathetic for a moment until he nodded his heads, taking the slip of paper from Elijah. “We can find these in no time,” he told him, a cheerful tone to his voice coming out from behind the counter.

Elijah sipped his tea, the warmth both from the drink and the potential for a new friend flooding him as he did so, following Sean deep into the store after being given a basket. He found himself marveling once again at the pure collection and diversity of all the books, both new and old.

He barely registered his basket becoming more full as he walked on, until he finally came back to the world, blushing when Sean laughed shortly.

“Sorry, I don’t want you to think that I was ignoring you. I was just...” he didn’t have time to finish his sentence as Sean cut him off.

“You were lost in the feel of the store?” Sean asked, smiling carefully as he gestured to the various books on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, “I was like that, so lost in it when I first opened it. I would walk in and just stand in the entrance area for a half hour at least before remembering I needed to open the store.”

Elijah couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at hearing that, his spirit not even feeling slightly dampened by the fact that they were standing in this particular section of the store.

“It is an amazing store,” he commented, picking up one of the books he looked at the cover. “Twelve steps for overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,” it said in the title and he made a face before putting it back.

“This one is good,” Sean picked one up off the shelf and handed it to him. “Not too much science in it, but it does offer certain strategies for calming any anxiety which comes with the compulsions or lack or routine.”

Elijah took the book without a word, putting it in the basket. He smiled somewhat, trying to remember the last time he had been without the feeling of being analyzed, or visually poked and prodded.

Dom did it, checking to make sure his best friend was feeling good, healthy and as sane as Elijah could get at any given time.

Orlando did it whether he knew it or not, but it wasn’t in the same way that Dom did. There was less worry there and more comprehension, to Elijah it was like he wasn’t trying to check on the disorder but rather Elijah as a human being.

His mom used to check on him too, analyze him and try to predict every little moment, something which only proved to him that she really didn’t know him. She was more worried about appearances, and how her son could “shame her”, as he had once heard her tell his stepfather. It was a shame too, because before Dom, she was really all he had.

Sometimes he wished he could be normal for her, more than anything. It was a small sliver of hope more than anything else. Would she love him if he were more normal? He doubted it.

“So do you work, Elijah?” Sean asked him, leading him to the cash register since he seemed to have finished his shopping.

Elijah shook his head, “I’ve never had a job, well not like a normal job anyway and no one would want to hire me anyway.”

Sean nodded slowly, almost as though he understood. “That must be pretty hard, but obviously you want to move on from this...ailment,” he said slowly, as though he didn’t want to offend Elijah.

Smiling Elijah nodded, “It’s why I’m going to school, I want to shape a future for myself beyond money left from relatives.”

He didn’t know why he was telling Sean this, but he was and it was a little weird, but altogether very comfortable for him, because unlike Orlando, all he wanted from Sean was hopefully friendship.

“You could have a job here,” Sean offered to him, smiling somewhat. “You could work when you wanted to, hopefully on Tuesday’s when the stock comes in so I don’t have to do it alone, but whatever day you want.”

Elijah didn’t know what he was thinking, his mind having gone blank the minute those words came out of Sean’s mouth.

A job.

Not only a job, but a job in a place that he actually loved and felt at peace in, with someone who seemed to understand that he did need a certain amount of routine and balance in his life to get by.

“Yes,” he blurted out, looking at Sean with a big smile on his lips. “I would love to work Tuesdays, and maybe other days when I don’t have classes.”

Sean smiled back at him, “We’ll start you out with just Tuesday’s for a little while and then when you want to work more you let me know. And as your bonus, these books are free.”

Elijah gaped at him then found himself smiling again, once he realized that he could hardly wait to get back home to tell Orlando about his new job.

“Do you need my information?” he asked, gnawing on his bottom lip and practically bouncing in place with pure happiness.

“Just bring your social security number and a direct deposit statement on Tuesday and you’ll be all set up. Is 8 a.m okay?” Sean asked him.

“8 is great,” Elijah responded, taking the bag his books were in. He practically clutched it to himself. “I’ll see you then,” he turned on his heel after waving and headed for the door humming softly.

When he got home he practically bolted up the apartment steps and in through the door after only minimal struggling with his keys.

“Orlando,” he called, hoping the other man was in his bedroom as he looked up at the half wall of the loft bedroom.

A moment later Orlando leaned over the wall, arching an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Did you like the bookstore?”

Elijah nodded and smiled, “Can I come up?” he asked eagerly, having agreed with his room mate that since Orlando did not actually have a door, he would holler from the bottom of the steps.

It had worked so far though.

“Of course,” Orlando moved back from the half wall and was obviously surprised when Elijah bounded up the steps and hugged him tightly.

Elijah wrapped his arms around Orlando’s slim waist without even thinking, bouncing slightly with excitement.

“You’ll never believe it,” he told him, pulling back and smiling brightly.

“What is it?” Orlando asked, sounding just as excited as Elijah, even though he didn’t know what the news was.

“I got a job,” Elijah exclaimed, grinning brightly as he hugged Orlando again then realized what was doing.

He was  **hugging** Orlando.

The other man’s body felt so good against his.

Amazingly good against his.

He was almost going to pull away when Orlando’s arms tightened around him and he allowed himself to sink into the warmth of the other body with a soft happy sigh.

Elijah was being hugged.

Elijah was being hugged by someone he’d never been hugged by before and he didn’t feel like running and hiding, even as his face turned bright red.

“I’m proud of you ‘Lij,” he murmured softly into Elijah’s ear and Elijah beamed, despite the uncertainty weighing him down a little bit.

His life was changing.

The angel was hugging him.

He didn’t want to run though.

He wanted to kiss him.

That was a new one, for sure.

  
  



	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah goes to check out a certain bookstore, and ends up with more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Contains a slight mental breakdown related to agoraphobia/OCD

Elijah fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, his hands aching even though they had been healed for a good time now. He glanced at the mirror, running his fingers through his hair. He squinted at his reflection before pulling on his glasses and studying himself.

No one would ever think he had major psychological problems, dressed like this. He smiled to himself, that thought making him happy, because, if nothing else, the first day of his classes should be the one day that he would be able to present himself as normal. 

There was a knock on his bedroom door and he jumped slightly, feeling awkward as he approached it and opened it, feeling even more shy as he saw Orlando standing there.

“Hey ‘Lij,” Orlando said warmly, holding out a cup of tea. “I made it just like you like it, “he told him with a soft smile on his face. 

Elijah took the cup and sipped it, “That is really good of you Orli; you didn’t have to do that.” He was grateful though, beyond grateful and couldn’t believe that in the middle of getting ready for his own morning meeting Orlando was thinking of him.

Not many people would drop what they were doing just to do something nice for someone else, or at least not in Elijah’s experiences. 

“Sure I did,” Orlando responded, “it’s your first day of class, are you excited?” 

Elijah nodded his head slowly, then shrugged sheepishly when he realized he didn’t know if he felt excited at all. It was more like blind fucking terror. 

“I’m scared,” he admitted finally, curling his hands around the cup of tea and allowing it to warm him. “Really scared,” he swallowed, knowing suddenly he wouldn’t be able to eat anything for sure with the way his stomach was twisting.

Orlando reached out and touched his shoulder gently, squeezing. “You shouldn’t be scared, look at how you’ve been doing.” 

Elijah nodded his head, knowing for the moment that Orlando was right but there was something in the back of his mind which was telling him this probably wasn’t the best idea, or that he wasn’t ready.

It made him want to cry, or at the very least caused a lump to form in his throat, because he was determined to do this and just for once wanted to be around people who didn’t know who he was and didn’t think of him as some freak or someone who needed to be coddled. 

“If you don’t want to do it though, I’m sure everyone would understand,” Orlando told him, his voice comforting to Elijah, who managed a tremulous smile in his direction and nodded his head.

Elijah nodded his head then shrugged, sipping the tea once again because he knew that while he didn’t actually have to do this, it was something he felt he had to, no matter how scared, or how shaky he felt. 

“I’ve got to,” he finally said, glancing up and meeting Orlando’s eyes. He was surprised at how much compassion lay there and how much he wanted to seek out the older man’s arms once again because they had been such a comfort, even in an excited moment. 

Orlando nodded his head and smiled very kindly at Elijah, who suddenly felt very small because his room mate was trying to be kind, and here he was with a growing resentment for that kindness. 

He didn’t know exactly how to explain it, but for the past few days he had found himself agitated at the changes his life was taking, resenting those people who cared about him most, and while it made sense in some cases, like his mother, Dom and Orlando certainly didn’t deserve the type of treatment he was giving them in his head. 

“I’ve gotta go,” he said abruptly, guilt weighing down every step as he headed toward the door after putting his cup in the dishwasher, only vaguely remembering to put on his shoes before he left the apartment, thankful he’d managed to grab his bag and coat as well.

Elijah knew he was sinking slightly, and suddenly too, but he wasn’t sure what to do and had a feeling that his fascination with Orlando had a good deal to do with it. He wanted to be like the other young man, which he knew was ridiculous, because as uncomfortable as he often felt in his own skin, he knew he would feel less comfortable trying to be someone else. 

His skin crawled lightly and he found himself scratching it as he stepped on the bus and gripped the pole in an effort to not topple over, his depression only increasing as he realized all he wanted to do now was wash his hands and he wouldn’t be able to until he go to the school. 

A lump choked him suddenly, his throat tightening to an almost painful degree and he hurriedly pulled up his hood and bowed his head so no one would see. 

He didn’t need this. His hands were still healing, his life was good, he had freedom, he had choices. 

And yet he had never felt more trapped in his life and he hated himself for it. 

These thoughts, the self pity, taunted him all the way to the school and he stepped off the bus, hurrying into the building. He didn’t care, didn’t apologize when he bumped into people, and practically ran into the bathroom, glad to see it was empty. He locked the door and slumped against it. 

Not good, not good He thought over and over again as he walked to the taps and turned them on, pulling some napkins out of his bag. He set them on the counter and began washing his hands frantically, drying them off. He used the napkin to turn off the taps and disposed of it.

Looking in the mirror, he was taken aback by how different he looked compared to that morning when he’d been getting ready for school. 

He looked tired, exhausted really. 

School didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. It was a suffocating idea, one that he found himself no longer sure of.

Elijah stepped back from the mirror, wrapping his arms around himself as he did so not wanting to see what he looked like any longer. He glanced at his watch and swore to himself when he realized that he was late for his first class.

He didn’t even want to go, but he couldn’t go back home again because Orlando wouldn’t be leaving for another hour and he would be too concerned, and Elijah didn’t want to have to deal with that. 

Class seemed out of the question as he looked down at his hands where the skin, just having healed was beginning to crack again, too dry. 

Elijah drew in a deep breath and paced the bathroom, ignoring when someone knocked on the door, his breath hitching in his throat because he didn’t want to see another person and hoped that whoever they were, they would assume it was out of order and move on.

He tried to calm himself, tried to remember any techniques which would help him remain calm, but came up with none and found himself leaving the bathroom and fleeing the building. 

He ran, his lungs burning as he did so and the tears which fell seemed to carve trails into his skin, and he was sure the whole world would see them. 

Stopping after a short while, out of breath and hunched over, Elijah looked around him and realized he wasn’t even entirely sure where he was, laughter bursting out of him as he did so. 

He was lost. 

It was exhilarating and he didn’t even know why, even as the anxiety of not being able to find his way home crept in on him, the thought of having to do so excited him. 

He was excited at being lost, yet he had been feeling nothing but lost since he’d been diagnosed with this horrible disorder.

Chaos and disorder, it was all his life was made up of and Elijah didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as realization slammed into him.

He was lost.

It was amazing.

*~*~*~*~*

Elijah returned home hours later, opening the door quietly. He had to admit that he hoped he could make it to his room somehow without Orlando noticing. He couldn’t believe how long he had been gone, how long he had been lost.

“Where the hell have you been?” His best friend asked him, sounding completely incensed as he did so.

Shrinking in on himself, Elijah didn’t know to say or do as he looked into Dom’s eyes and saw nothing but worried anger there, his walls shaking slightly as he did so, because he didn’t want to have to deal with this, as horrible as he knew that was.

“I went out after class,” Elijah mumbled, the lie feeling heavy on his tongue and making him want to run and hide. 

Dom shook his head, frowning. “And you didn’t think to call? To maybe call Orlando, or one of the Seans, me or even Viggo.” 

Elijah found anger rising in him because if he didn’t have this ridiculous disorder, he would be treated like a grown man instead of a child, and he was getting really sick of it.

“Why? Am I supposed to check in every damn moment of every day?” he found himself practically shouting back, his anger bursting out of him before he could even comprehend what he was saying. “Just stop fussing over me Dominic, I don’t need you in my life if that’s what you’re going to do.”

Dom stepped back, his face twisting in anger and pain as he jerked his head in a nod before turning and leaving the apartment, not even bothering to slam the door as he left. 

“That was very unkind Elijah,” Orlando’s voice came from above him and Elijah glanced up to see him leaning over the half-wall which obscured his room from view.

Elijah shrugged his shoulders, turning to retreat into his room. He was surprised when the sound of Orlando’s footsteps, fast as though he was running, followed him down the stairs. 

“Leave me alone Orli, I just want to go to my room and forget today ever happened,” he murmured, his tone of voice suddenly filled with no emotion as he felt like he was just physically drained. 

“What happened? Were classes that bad? Did you not understand the material or something?” Orlando asked him, nothing but concern in his voice.

Elijah shook his head, wondering why people wouldn’t just leave him alone, leave him be to deal with his own problems the way he wanted to. 

“I didn’t go,” he said softly, tension making his shoulders ache as he was finally able to make it to his room. “I’d appreciate if you would just leave me alone for now.”

Orlando made a noise behind him, like he wanted to protest but couldn’t stomach doing so and Elijah didn’t turn to look at him, walking into his room and closing the door behind him. 

His hands ached, his lungs felt bruised and he wanted to weep, Elijah decided, as he stumbled to the bed and crawled under the sheets, not caring about removing his clothing because all he wanted was some sort of peace.

Sleep dragged him under, and he didn’t even try to fight it as it did, finding a strange sense of solace there.

When Elijah awoke he wasn’t surprised to find Orlando sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him with worry written all over his face. 

“What?” he asked, his voice coming out hoarse with sleep.

Orlando sighed softly, “I care about you way more than I should or have the right to,” he admitted. 

Elijah sat up, shoving the covers off himself. He touched Orlando’s shoulder, not liking the sorrow in his friend’s voice. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay to care,” he murmured softly, feeling the tension in his room mate’s form.

Orlando turned and before Elijah could even respond kissed him softly on the lips, leaving the blue eyed man stunned.

Elijah hesitated, then responded slowly, having never kissed anyone but Dom in his entire life. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, and he found himself amazed that he didn’t care that Orlando tasted of chocolate and didn’t wonder if he had brushed his teeth or not. 

Orlando’s lips were soft, and so warm, that Elijah immediately felt a deeper warmth flood him, leaving him breathless and panting when the older man pulled away.

“You...care,” he nodded his head, realizing belatedly how stupid that sounded.

“I’m sorry,” Orlando whispered and got up, leaving the room before Elijah’d barely had a chance to catch his breath.

When he heard the tell tale sound of the apartment door closing, his heart broke. 

Orlando didn’t care?


End file.
